


What's Up, Doc?

by RigorMorton



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, Crushes, Doctor/Patient, Dubious Morality, F/M, Feels, Grateful Jerome, Groping, Hugs, Kissing, Making Out, Medical Examination, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Tenderness, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigorMorton/pseuds/RigorMorton
Summary: [An idea I recieved from a tumblr anon:"I just wanted to drop in and have you imagine for one moment reader rubbing lotion onto jerome’s scars and putting chapstick on his lips"]You're a medical doctor at Arkham Asylum, assigned to Gotham's most dangerous criminals, Jerome Valeska.You haven't seen him in about a month due to him escaping Arkham again and today is his first day back.However you're shocked to see how horrible his re-attached skin is looking. You'd given him strict orders to apply a special cream to keep his skin moisturized, but he obviously has not been doing so.





	What's Up, Doc?

**Author's Note:**

> If you want some vulnerable Jerome recieving some TLC from doctor reader, you've come to the right place.

"Jerome Valeska." You scold - your hand on your hip and your face full of disapproval.

Jerome turns around slowly. His brow cocked high. "Doc!" He replies enthusiastically - his grin wide and gleeful. 

 

It'd been over a month since you'd laid eyes on the troublemaking ginger, right before he'd broken out of Arkham for the second time. 

The sight of him has you gasping. 

His face is a mess. Dry and cracked. It's almost painful to look at. He obviously didn't take the healing cream you'd prescribed him, when he made his escape.

 

You stomp toward him, with a huff - your high heels clanking loudly on the tile floor.

"What is happening with your face? You haven't been putting on your skin cream."  
You give a concerned look, running your fingers down the side of his face - Jerome gulping nervously and looking very confused.

"Don't be dramatic, Doc. I'm fine." He shrugs nonchalantly. 

"Uh. No. You're not. You're coming to my office, right now."

Jerome rolls his eyes and gives a 'get on with it' motion with his hand.

"Come on." You grab him by the wrist, pulling him toward the exam room.

"Geez, doc." He scoffs as you shut the door behind you.

"Jerome, I don't think you realize how serious this is. Doesn't it hurt?"

"Nothing ever hurts." He grins cockily.

You see right through it. You've been around Jerome enough to know he puts up a front. A machismo act, that's just that. An act. 

He's accidentally shown you his human side before. You saw a true flicker of sadness in his eyes once, during his first stint in Arkham, right after killing his mother. Somewhere deep inside, lie feelings. Albeit, extremely deep.

"If you say so, kiddo." You flash a playful smile, before rummagig through one of your drawers to retrieve a tube of prescription skin cream.

"Can you get up on the exam table and look up at the ceiling for me, please?"

You see Jerome nod out of the corner of your eye and hear the rustling of the paper cover, drapped over the table. He's seated up there, swinging his legs like a child and whistling a tune you can't quite make out. 

Jerome Valeska is a very fascinating boy. He's murderous and cold blooded, yet playful and childlike. Giddy, and even sometimes naive. It's so strange. You've never met an inmate quite like him.

You move in closer, standing in front of him and using your hands to tilt his head up, and a little to the right.

"Stupid scars." He scoffs. "I didn't mind them before. I actually thought they gave me character."

"So what changed?"

"Seeing my prettyboy brother again, all rich and perfect." He rolls his eyes with a huff.

"Hold still for me." You give a soft smile and untwist the cap on the tube of cream.

You squeeze it into your hand, and use three fingers to spread it along the sides of his face, dragging the cream outward - smooth, gentle strokes.

His skin is dry and rubbery - his scars like melted wax dripping along the sides of his face and lips.

"Your brother, huh?" You finally reply. "I didn't know you had one."

"I tried to forget."

You smirk down at him, pulling globs of lotion downward toward his jawline. "I don't know. I bet your life is a lot more exciting than his. And for what it's worth, I still think you're handsome."

Jerome looks up at you with this expression that gives you butterflies. You can't explain it. It's this look of gratitude, but something else too. It makes you nervous. You have to break the tension.

"Geez, Jerome. This is really awful. How do you even turn your head?" You chuckle nervously, hoping to lighten the moment. 

You continue running your fingers softly down his rough skin and Jerome closes his eyes contently.

"If I told you it hurts, would you kiss it better?" Jerome asks. 

But instead of the mischievous grin he usually flashes after a comment like that, his face remains straight and serious. His eyes flicker open, meeting your gaze. 

Jerome's look is intense and overwhelming. 

"Jerome.…" 

"It hurts." He repeats with that same intense seriousness that makes your breath hitch.

Most likely the kid's never had anyone do anything sweet and motherly like this for him before. Probably never even been hugged.

It's heartbreaking to think about, but you have to remember the atrocities he's commited. He does have a tragic upbringing, but that doesn't excuse his crimes and disregard for human life. You're playing with fire, here.

"Come on doc." He finally smirks. "Heal me."

You suppose it couldn't really hurt anything. It's not exactly professional, but it's not really sexual either. Not inherently, anyhow. 

"Ok." You nod, placing your hands over his cheeks, and Jerome leans into it as your lips come down around the line of scarring that runs along the top of his forehead, delivering a soft peck.

Jerome sighs contently, and twists his fingers into your labcoat. 

You pull off of him slowly, clearing your throat.

"Now. Time to do something about those dry ravines, you call lips." 

You try your best to settle the thick tension hovering over the room. Making jokes and pretending the tension isn't there.

Jerome sits still, watching you pull a jar of carmex out of your coat pocket. 

You unscrew the lid and dip your finger into the pot, swirling it around in the sticky, jelly like balm.

"This is probably gonna burn a little since your lips are so bad off. It's a good burn though. A healing burn." You wink, placing your coated finger up to his lips.

They're even drier than they look. Rough and jagged against your fingertip as it swipes along his bottom lip, working its way around his entire mouth.

"Now, press your them together."

Jerome does as he's told, wincing slightly as his lips move against each other.

You use the pad of your thumb to blend in some of the cream you missed that's gathered at the corner of his eye.

"My lips hurt." Jerome whispers, giving you that intense stare once again. 

"Jerome, no." You shake your head. "I draw the line at a kiss on the forehead. And even that was too much."

He doesn't reply. He just keeps staring up at you with those puppy dog eyes. 

You want to believe the look is fake, and he's just manipulating you, but there's a sincerity in his gaze that gives you chills.

You're not sure you like seeing Jerome's human side. It's raw and uncomfortable. It's so much easier when you don't have to see your patients as human.

It's easier to believe that the people who commit the heinous things that make your stomach turn, are monsters. That they don't have any feelings about anything ever. That they don't do normal human things like brush their teeth. Go grocery shopping, or laugh eating dinner in front of the tv.

Jerome looking at you with such gratitude, as if nobody's ever shown him kindness like this in his life, shatters this image for you. 

Sure, you and Jerome were always chummy. He would tell you jokes and flirt with you, and you enjoyed his company far more than any other patient of yours. But you were always able to keep your sympathy to a minimum. This is different, and you don't like it one bit.

Jerome puts his hand around your waist, pressing into the small of your back, pulling you into him.

He stands up and looks down his nose at you, making you tremble slightly. 

His other hand moves down around the side of your face, just below your ear.

It's warm and so human like.

You close your eyes, deciding not to fight the kiss off for some crazy reason. 

This is as immoral as it is, illegal. You must've lost your damn mind.

Warm, sticky lips press against yours, distracting you from your practical thoughts. 

His lips are rough and jagged, but the smooth balm makes the pressure less harsh and its medicated tingle causes your mouth to come alive.

Jerome's tongue is smooth. Slick and wet as it penetrates your lips.

His movements are a little sloppy though. Lots of tongue and teeth. Obviously his first kiss. But somehow it's still kind of nice. 

The inexperienced tongue is still warm and tastes slightly sweet, like somebody's been sneaking him candybars in exchange for favors. Wouldn't be surprising.

Your hand wraps around the nape of his neck, pushing his lips tighter into yours as you moan into his mouth, feeling him shudder against you.

Jerome spins you around quickly, switching places with you - your back pressing up against the edge of the table.

He pushes you down onto its surface, yanking your thigh up around his waist.

Things are moving a little too fast for you. It appears this is heading into more than just a makeout session.

He pulls off your lips and moves his mouth along your neck, pressing a trail of soft kisses down to your collarbone and nipping at your fevered flesh.

You know this is going too far and you need to put a stop to it, but it feels so good. 

His hand moves up from your waist, traveling up your torso.

It settles on your upper ribcage for a moment - his thumb pressing into you as it swipes along your bones.

Slowly, but surely, it slides up a little farther, moving gently over your breast and that's where you draw the line.

You wiggle away from him, placing a hand on his shoulder to push a distance between you.

"Jerome, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Jerome, I don't think you understand, just how wrong this is, and how much trouble I could get in, here."

He looks down at you in confusion. Pouting slightly. 

"Look. I'm a doctor in an asylum. You're my patient. I'm in a position of power. Not only would they take medical license away, but I could go to prison. Do you understand? "

Jerome just nods down at you with this look that hits you like a thousand knives.

You clear your throat and stand up to your feat, feeling like a complete tease and utter trash. 

"I'm really sorry, kiddo." You brush your hand along the side of his cheek, still feeling the stickiness of the lotion that hadn't quite yet absorbed. 

"The kiss was lovely." You whisper in his ear, before walking toward the door, holding it open for him to leave.

Jerome seems to respect your decision and you're certain you're the only person in this place, he'd extend that courtesy to."

He walks toward the door quietly, but stops for a moment before crossing the threshold.

You swallow thickly, feeling nervous about his intentions. It is Jerome after all.

His arms stretch out wide and you gasp slightly as they come down around your body, pulling you into a tight hug.

It takes you a moment to process this. You did not see this coming.

It's even more surprising than the kiss. An open mouthed kiss is a sign of physical affection, sure. But it's also sexual and driven by lust.

A hug is something different. Something you wouldn't expect from Jerome Valeska.

You finally loosen up, wrapping your arms around his back, squeezing him back in return and thinking about the fact this is probably the first time in his adult life, he's hugged anyone.

"Thanks, doc." He whispers in your ear, before pulling away with his classic, mischievous grin, and the sight of it makes you smile. That's the Jerome you're used to.


End file.
